


One More, Sweetheart

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Eve, Established Relationship, F/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: Feeling melancholy on Christmas Eve, Hermione's wizards offer her a distraction.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bill Weasley/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 150





	One More, Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cecemarty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecemarty/gifts).



> One of my very dear friends has been feeling down about not being able to see her family over the holidays and being half-way across the country (and you know, pandemic) there is very little one can do to help ease that pain. So... smut shot. I hope this brings a smile to your face and keeps your spirits high as you work tonight taking care of those who desperately need your quick-thinking and care. Happy Christmas Eve, cecemarty! <3

Her body sagged into the worn leather armchair, arms splaying out over the wide armrests and head smacking against the plush back. A frustrated puff of breath from between her lips made a stray curl tickle her forehead and she shoved it away with just a bit too much force. 

Even though the fire crackled in the hearth and the cabin was warm, her entire body felt as if it had been doused in an ice bath. 

The portkey malfunctioned and returned them precisely to the spot they had attempted to disappear from. The Floo Network was down across the country thanks to poor funding and even shoddier craftsmanship of the warms and charms that made it work. The roads outside were impassable thanks to a raging blizzard. Apparition was impossible thanks to astronomical interference from the auroras. 

And so, Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age, was stuck in a  _ bloody _ cabin in the middle of Romania on Christmas Eve. 

She had plans, goddamnit. 

Her parents had flown in from Australia and were staying with Arthur and Molly at the Burrow where she, Bill, and Charlie were supposed to have arrived some half-hour ago. They were going to watch  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ on the screen Arthur had managed to rig in the living room and thread popcorn onto string to make garlands for the Christmas tree. Molly would have made a dozen kinds of treats and somewhere, there would be obnoxious floating mistletoe for her to yell at George about. Children would be decked out in Yuletide pajamas, reading the new books she’d procured for them while yawning as they tried to wait up for Father Christmas. Theo and Harry would’ve been unable to hold their eggnog and would’ve started snogging on the sofa thinking no one would see. Ron would be bickering with Draco about chess while Pansy inadvertently stomped them both at the game while they weren’t looking. 

And instead of being stuck in the same cabin she’d lived in for the past six months, Hermione would be surrounded by people she loved and had missed terribly. 

Not that she didn’t love Bill and Charlie—she absolutely did. Their soulbond had been completely unexpected and one moment she was arguing with Charlie that the Ukranian Ironbelly’s tail was two centimeters longer than that of a Swedish Short-Snout and the next she’d found her clothing half off and a very fit wizard pinning her to the wall. The moment his lips brushed the subtle mark on her neck, she was done for. The world could have stopped spinning as long as Charlie Weasley didn’t stop sucking bruises against her throat. 

Her encounter with Bill had been much more surprising. He’d managed to catch them in-flagrante-delicto in the orchards behind the Burrow and, well… she scarcely believed that instead of squeaking and trying to cover herself she invited him to join them. 

And he did. 

Only he’d never left because of course, the subtle mark sitting at the top of his spine, perfectly matched her own. 

It had been an adjustment, learning to live with and love two men—brothers at that, but she trusted in the pull she felt to them through her magic, even if she thought divination and destiny were codswallop. 

On any other night, she wouldn’t mind being stuck indoors with her ridiculously fit wizards, but it was Christmas and knowing she wouldn’t get to go home made her stomach twist uncomfortably. 

The door flung open, but Hermione didn’t move, staring listlessly into the flames. A heavy gain sounded behind her and out of her periphery, she saw Bill drop an armful of firewood into the holder near the hearth. Charlie followed and deposited more before brushing the snow from his heavy winter coat. 

A heavy sigh fell from Hermione’s lips and she pulled her feet up into the chair, tucking them beneath her and curling into a tight little ball of melancholy. 

Low words were exchanged, but she didn’t hear them. Her mind was miles away, back in Ottery St. Catchpole with the rest of her family. Charlie stoked the fire, building it up until bright flames erupted within the hearth, spreading more warmth throughout the room. 

“I’d tell you to budge over, but you picked the smallest chair in the room, didn’t you?” 

Hermione’s eyes lifted to find Bill standing just to the left of center. “Technically, it’s the largest chair in the room. A sofa isn’t a ch—aah!” She found herself being scooped up by a pair of strong arms and tucked against Bill’s chest before he sat back down in the large leather armchair near the fire. 

“You holding up okay, sweetheart?” he asked, nose nuzzling against her temple as she curled her arms around his neck. 

Hermione shook her head, eyelids pressing closed to stem the flow of unshed tears. “Not really.” 

A hand brushed her knee, the pads of rough fingers brushing just beneath the hem of her skirt. “We can try again in the morning, maybe make it over for Christmas day. The storm should abate by then and we should be able to Floo over to the Portkey office.”

The knot in her chest tightened and she nodded, “I know, Charlie… this just… well.” 

She felt the brush of Bill’s lips against her temple. “I know, sweetheart, I know.” 

Hermione swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing her tears away and letting the salty droplets disappear into the fabric of her wool skirt. Thoughts of everything she was missing swirled in her mind and her body tensed in a visceral manifestation of her disappointment and frustration with their situation. 

Bill tucked her head against his shoulders, his fingers combing delicately through her curls while Charlie perched on the side of the chair, his hand a steady presence against her shoulder. 

“No one should have to feel like this on Christmas Eve,” she grumbled. “This is the worst.” 

Charlie’s voice surrounded her over the crackle of the fire and the sound of Bill’s heartbeat thrumming in her ears, filling her with warmth as his thumb brushed against the faded mark on her neck. “Do you need a distraction?” 

“My mind won’t stop spinning, reminding me of all we’re missing right now.” The words were quiet, whispered as they left her lips, but they reached the ears of her partners. 

Nimble fingers combed through her curls and pulled several spirals away from her face before she felt Bill’s hot breath against her cheeks. “Would you like to forget, Hermione?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Another tender brush of lips covered her temple to sweep over her forehead. “Then be a good girl and turn around.” 

Hermione felt Bill’s arms release and she moved, shifting her body until she sat in his lap facing the fire. A press of Charlie’s hands against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and her legs parted. Hooking his fingers beneath her knees, Charlie guided her legs until they draped over Bill’s, leaving her open before him. 

Warmth flooded her when Bill’s hand pressed over the space where her heart sat beating in her chest and he pulled her back to rest against his broad chest. Large hands encircled her wrists and guided her arms over her head, the tips of her fingers brushing against the long, ginger hair brushing Bill’s shoulders. 

“Such a good girl, darling,” Charlie whispered, dotting the inside of her knee with a trail of kisses that lit a low fire in her belly. 

Bill’s hands swept over her curves and tugged at her shirt, pulling it from where it was tucked into her skirt. His cool hands soothed the warm skin of her stomach as he pushed her shirt upwards until it was off completely and sailing over the back of the chair to be found the next morning. 

The fire crackled, the incandescent light casting a perfect storm of shadows and light over Charlie. The thick muscles of his shoulders rippled beneath his sweater and she could just see the peek of one of his tattoos creeping up his neck. Hermione was lost to her admirations when his tongue flicked over her inner thigh—a warning—before his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh and her body teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. 

The front clasp of her bra was released and Bill’s hands cupped her breasts, thumbs sweetly brushing over her nipples in a direct juxtaposition to Charlie’s dangerous bites below. It drove her mad. Prickles of need coated her skin and her mind already seemed far away from the troubles that plagued her just a few moments ago. 

She sank back into Bill, letting her fingers tease the silken strands of his hair as Charlie laved his tongue over the mark she knew would last for days, reminding her of exactly whom she’d chosen to bind herself to. Bill never seemed to mind, preferring to bring her tokens of his affection when he returned from a week away rather than litter her body in marks. Charlie was the opposite, always leaving love bites in visible and concealed places, convincing her to visit the tattooist on the weekends and adorn her body in splashes of colour and intricate designs, and posessively kissing and touching the marks upon her flesh. 

Her skirt was pushed further up her thighs, the thick fabric bunching around her waist to reveal her knickers. A knuckle pressed against the silky gusset, drawing the slick from her cunt to seep into the fabric. 

“Soaked already, you little minx.” Hermione could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice as Bill rolled her nipples between his fingers, pressing hard enough to cause a bite of pain before soothing it away with gentle swipes of his thumbs. 

Charlie’s knuckle traveled the length of her slit, pressing her knickers into her folds and pushing his knuckle against her clit through the fabric. Her gasp devolved into a whimper when he pulled his hand away. 

“Needy girl, aren’t you?” Bill rasped against her ear. “I wonder how many times you can come for us. How wet you’ll get. Will you soak my trousers before I fuck you, Hermione?” 

The whine that left her mouth seemed an otherworldly sound.

“Because I’m going to fuck you until your brilliant, wonderful brain feeds you only incoherent thoughts of your own pleasure. You’ll be so wrecked, you won’t be able to walk.” 

A soft moan left her lips, followed by a single word was breathed out over her tongue— _ yes— _ before her teeth sank into her bottom lip. 

Fingers played lightly over her knickers, teasing her through the tacky material and she arched her hips, desperately seeking  _ more _ . 

“Don’t forget about her mouth, brother.” Charlie’s thumb brushed over her lip, removing it from between her teeth before slipping two fingers into her mouth. “Would you like to feel my cock against your tongue instead of my fingers?” 

She sucked greedily in affirmation before she felt the withdrawal of his hands from her body, her lips pouting in response.

“Good girl,” Bill whispered, his hands leaving her breasts to curl around her rib cage, helping her to stand and nudging her into Charlie’s waiting arms. 

He dragged his mouth over hers, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms and discarding it on the floor. Fingers worked over the clasp of her skirt and it too, joined the rest of her clothing, leaving her standing in only her knickers. Strong arms bracketed her frame as Charlie kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth. 

Clothing rustled behind her before she felt Bill’s hands on her hips, fingers slipping beneath her knickers and dragging them, inch by torturous inch. His stubbled jaw scratched her skin as she pressed kisses to each sliver of revealed skin, leaving a tidy trail over her arse and down her thigh until her knickers joined the rest of her clothing on the floor. 

One of Charlie’s hands drifted over her curves, grasping her arse in his palm as Bill parted her legs further. She felt the press of fingers at her center, dipping into the first knuckle before withdrawing and swiping through her folds as Charlie swallowed the moan that left her mouth. Bill’s fingers dipped into her quim again, slowly fucking her until they were coated in her slick. Her body thrummed as he pressed against her walls, massaging and coaxing pleasure from that spot deep within her she could never reach with her own hand.

Charlie drew back, drawing his lips over her cheek as his other hand threaded through her curls, grasping them tightly and pulling her neck to the side. “Fuck you’re perfect,” he muttered as his tongue found the faint mark on the side of her neck just as Bil’s fingers withdrew from her cunt and circled her clit. 

She crested, her thighs shaking in the euphoric aftermath of the orgasm that consumed her. Bill’s fingers teased at her clit, prolonging her pleasure as Charlie laved at the mark that tied the three of them together with light flicks of his tongue. 

Bill’s voice broke through the fog coating her mind. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

Charlie helped her, turning her body and pressing against a starburst of ink on her shoulder to lower her to her knees. Eyelids fluttered as her body shivered from the afterfects of having fallen into a sea of pleasure. Charlie nudged her knees further apart with a press of his shoe to her calf, and her cheeks flushed knowing her lingering arousal would probably drip onto the rug. 

Bill’s hand slipped into her curls and he guided her forward, pressing his waiting cock against her kiss-swollen lips. “Keep yourself occupied while Charlie undresses, pet.” 

His words stripped away any semblance of restraint she might have pretended to have—something she never seemed to have when it came to giving them exactly what they wanted—and her lips parted around the thick head of Bill’s cock. Glossy precum coated her lips before she swiped her tongue over the sensitive glans, drawing a rumble of pleasure from him. Bright brown eyes watched his face as it contorted in pleasure with each press of her tongue and teasing kiss of her lips. 

“Like you mean it, Hermione,” Bill chided at her teasing, “Or does Charlie need to spank you?” 

She stilled, silently weighing the option before Bill moved her head and thrust upward and into her mouth. “That’s it. Such a good girl.”

Charlie’s hand cracked over her arse, forcing a squeal of surprise from her lips and Bill sank in another inch. “Gods, yes,” he moaned. 

“She took too long to think about it, still a long way from being wrecked, as you promised,” Charlie said, rubbing the brightly coloured imprint on her supple flesh with his hand, soothing the pain into a soft hum of pleasure. 

“Night is young— _ fuck, _ Hermione. Just like that.” She swallowed around him, pressing her tongue against the thick vein traversing the underside of his cock. 

Another shout left her lips as Charlie spanked her again in a series of rapid, alternating strokes, a bloom of heat flushing her body as Bill’s cock slipped further between her lips, brushing her throat. An inferno raged with her body and she pressed her hips backward, desperate for any contact to her burning skin. Soft lips soon soothed the burn as Charlie kissed each handprint in turn. Warm breath puffed against her sticky folds and she stilled in her anticipation, keeping Bill’s cock trapped within the hot confines of her mouth. 

Her patience was rewarded when a thick sear of his tongue swept through her folds and lingered at her clit, sweetly nudging the sensitive bud with the tip. She felt him moan against her core and swept one hand back to grip his hair, pulling him closer. Hermione's other hand cupped Bill's bollocks as he guided her head over his cock, each beautiful inch of his thick member sliding between her lips and over her tongue. 

Charlie untangled her fingers from his hair and she felt him shift, moving to lie on the rug beneath her before his calloused hands clapped against her thighs and greedily pulled her down onto his waiting mouth. 

He devoured her, licking, nipping, sucking at each tender fold, his tongue disappearing into her cunt as his thumb brushed hard erratic strokes over her clit. Her thighs shook and her mouth faltered over Bill. He tugged her off of him by her hair and she screamed her pleasure into his thigh. 

Charlie pushed her relentlessly until tears streamed down her face for Bill's soft caress to wipe them away. The release was euphoric and she floated as the nerves of her body lit and cooled in rapid succession. Kisses were smacked against her thighs and softly poised against her swollen folds, her body trembling with each touch. 

"Nearly there," one of them said, the heavy words echoing in her mind as she felt herself being lifted. The warmth of Bill's chest met her cool back and her thighs were draped across his, as he smeared the evidence of her pleasure over his cock. Charlie pulled her upright, strong arms wrapping around her and helping her to lower herself onto Bill's cock, her swollen pussy stretching around him with a sweet, pyritic burn. 

"Open your mouth, sweetheart. Be good and you'll get another before Charlie fucks you." 

Hermione's mouth fell open and she watched Charlie's face through a hazy gaze, drunk off of her own pleasure. He smiled down sweetly at her and bent low to kiss her forehead tenderly as Bill circled his hips causing her overly sensitive walls to flutter around his cock. 

Bill’s hands tightly curled around her hips, the pads of his fingers dimpling her soft flesh as he moved her up and down, agonizingly drawing out her pleasure as the tip of Charlie’s cock slipped between her lips. Charlie’s hand sank into her plush curls, guiding each stroke of her mouth, his other hand brushing against her breast, teasing the nipple as he took his pleasure from her. Bill grunted behind her as his thrusts became more frantatic and someone’s uttered plea of ‘ _ touch yourself’ _ fell upon her ears and she rocked against her fingers, sending pulses of fire through her veins. 

Their bodies surged into hers, magic crackling around them like the dying flames in the fire in the hearth, and she burned for them. Her walls cinched around Bill and Charlie pressed into her throat when the inferno consumed her. 

Bill fell rigid behind her, his nose buried into her curls as he met his end, growling and snarling as he coated her walls in his seed while Charlie stole her breath with each thrust of his hips. Her lips fell slack around his cock as she struggled to breathe through her pleasure and his until he pulled back, granting her the air she desperately needed. Starbursts clouded her vision as she panted, the world spinning around her while Bill gingerly lifted her off of his lap and pressed her back against her chest. 

She was filled again as Charlie parted her dripping folds with his fingers and buried himself within her, uncaring that his brother had been there first. Charlie’s hand braced against the back of the chair, his other pressing into her shoulder with a bruising force as Bill’s hands held her steady. She was swollen, tired, and blissed out of her mind and couldn't have stopped the whimpers, if she tried as Bill’s fingers drifted once more to the oversensitized bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. 

Each brush of his fingers felt like a dagger swiping over her skin, only to bloom into a sweet burst of ecstasy. 

“One more, sweetheart. Let Charlie feel that perfect cunt. Make him come, love.” Bill’s words cut through the haze in her mind and her body trembled, desperate to please as her core tightened and she screamed, a burst of magic rendering the room dark as the burning embers of the fire were extinguished with the wave of magic that pulsed from her body. 

Time was immeasurable and the light of the heavens played behind her eyes as she floated in an endless sea of euphoria. Pinpricks settled over her skin and her quim pulsed, pulling her wizard to his end. His forehead dropped against hers and she barely registered the playful kiss dropped on her nose, but when he pulled out, the emptiness threatened to consume her until she was once more ensconced safely between them in bed. 

Someone had lifted her, another wiped her body with a warm cloth, and pressed a glass of water to her mouth before she was safely carried to the bedroom at the back of the cabin. 

Charlie’s muscular body pressed against her back as she was draped across Bill’s chest, the whispered words unheard but their meaning felt as she drifted off.

Morning dawned and Hermione awoke in a haze, her entire body sore and her abdomen aching. The sheets surrounding her were cold but a fire in the small hearth had been lit and the room was filled with warmth. With bleary eyes, she glanced out the window, finding the sill covered in snow and birds flitting about through the trees. 

The door swung open on it’s hinges and Charlie entered, dressed in a sweater bearing the first letter of his name, followed by Bill who had chosen one with three Quidditch goal posts wrapped in tinsel. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Charlie teased, sinking down on the edge of the bed to press a kiss to her forehead. 

Bill leaned against the column at the end of the bed, arms crossed and a handsome, contented smile spreading over his lips. “Sleep well?” 

Hermione nodded, “Mmhmm,” and reached for him, beckoning Bill over to kiss him good morning as Charlie stole his own kiss from her lips. One brother gave way to the other without hesitation and Hermione kissed Bill, letting her lips linger against his as a soft sigh fell from her lips. 

“Happy Christmas,” she said, sinking back against the pillows before stretching her arms above her head and groaning when her muscles loosened. 

Charlie’s fingers brushed through her curls and he laughed. “Your hair looks a bit like a dragon’s nest, love.” 

She swatted his hand away with a smile. “Your fault.” 

Bill glanced down at his watch. “Yes, well. You’ve got half an hour to tame it before our portkey leaves. I don’t think your mum or mine would appreciate you looking thoroughly fucked at breakfast.” 

Her eyes widened, panic thrumming through her as she sat up, fingers flying into the mess of curls atop her head. “Half an hour!” 

The sheet around her chest gave way, pooling around her waist and revealing her breasts, but she missed the hungry stares in both of their eyes as she pushed off of the bed and all but ran for the loo. 

Her wizards devolved into laughter, Charlie taking mercy on her and calling out, “Bill’s a liar, you’ve got an hour.” 

Hermione poked her head back out of the washroom, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up, though her tone held little malice. “I hate you both.” 

Bill nudged Charlie’s shoulder, laughing as Hermione ducked back into the washroom, the water from the showering sputtering through the pipes. “Hermione is also a liar.” 

Charlie nodded in agreement before brushing his hand through his hair and looking longingly towards the closed door. “Think there’s time for a quick fuck the shower?” 

“Mum would have our heads if we missed the portkey after the fright we gave her last night, not showing up.” Bill reminded him, pulling clothes out of the wardrobe for Hermione and arranging them on the bed. 

Charlie collapsed back into the bed, thinking of anything else other than the naked witch in the shower. “Why are witches so bloody scary when they’re mad?” 

“No one knows, mate. No one knows.” 

  
  
  



End file.
